


'Cuz It's Nice, 'Cuz It's Holy

by caswell



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Boyf Riends Secret Santa, Hanukkah, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, loosely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 22:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17109563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: Miraculously, Michael invites himself over for Hanukkah like all the years before- and this time, he has something to say.





	'Cuz It's Nice, 'Cuz It's Holy

**Author's Note:**

> HEY.  
> I'M BACK.
> 
> Here's what you missed!  
> 1\. Went to NYC! Met some new friends, saw BMC (twice! Off-Broadway and Zneefrock), hung out with the Joes!  
> 2\. Took a well-needed break at the psych ward. Did not talk about my feelings with a professional, but it still worked.  
> 3\. Got a cool femme girlfriend <3 (andtheywerer0ommates on tumblr!)
> 
> Anyway, this is my gift for shadowdragon1553 on Tumblr for the Boyf Riends Secret Santa! Hope you enjoy!

Truth be told, Jeremy didn’t expect to be hanging out with Michael at two in the morning on the second night of Hanukkah. He didn’t expect to have Michael over at all; they’d spent the holidays together for as long as he can remember, but this year was bound to be different. It had been less than a month since he'd gotten out of the hospital, and less than two since Halloween. Why on Earth Michael wanted to hang out with him is beyond Jeremy, but he'd asked if he could still sleep over a couple times over the holidays. Jeremy's not complaining; it's not like he doesn't want him to be there. 

This, though, doesn't even really feel like hanging out. The fluorescent kitchen light shines harshly down on the two of them, casting dark shadows on the shining linoleum. There's a silence hanging in the air, stifling in its absoluteness; it's there more often than not nowadays. Jeremy stares down at his mug full of hot cocoa- that powdered shit, not homemade. He'd made some for himself and Michael, but neither of them had drank any yet. “...So,” he says, not making eye contact. When Michael doesn't respond, Jeremy continues, “...How's life?”

Again, the silence. Jeremy had almost gotten his hopes up, since Michael was so lively at dinner, but then, that was only with his mothers and Jeremy's father. None of it was for him- or, at least, not enough to carry into the early morning in the kitchen.

“I know you don't like them,” Michael responds finally, “but I'm going to give you a choice anyway.”

After a long pause, Jeremy realizes he’s supposed to be speaking. “Oh, um… okay.”

“So,” Michael says, “you can either get the answer that you want to hear and that will help you sleep better at night,  _ or  _ you can get the real answer.”

Well, there's an obvious wrong answer here. It's going to hurt, but it's just the same as getting a shot, Jeremy rationalizes to himself- painful, but necessary. “Tell me the real answer,” he says.

Michael takes a sip from his now-cold cocoa before heaving a sigh. He's silent for a few moments before he speaks up with, “Not very good, dude. Like, sorta crappy still.”

“I'm sorry,” Jeremy says, truthful despite the reflexiveness of his response. “Dude, really, I am, swear to God-”

“See, that's the thing, though,” Michael cuts in. “I know you're super duper sorry, and, like, I accept your apology. But that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt.”

Jeremy takes a drink of his own “hot” cocoa and grimaces. Maybe not that. “There's gotta be  _ some _ thing I can do to make it up to you,” he says, a plea.

“I mean, probably, yeah.” Michael shrugs. “I just don't know  _ what,  _ y'know?”

Jeremy nods, and the room falls silent again. That's the word of the day: silent, silence, silenced… It's unnatural, verging on grotesque; it nauseates him, and he knows Michael well enough to know that it nauseates him, too. “I guess I just… don't know what else there is to do,” Jeremy says after a long pause. “So, tell me when you figure it out, um, I guess.” He feels a twinge of embarrassment at saying ‘I guess’ so much, but when's the last time he had a definitive answer for anything?

“Well, yeah, obviously,” Michael says, and takes another sip from his hot cocoa; Jeremy idly marvels at how he can stomach it. “I'm not trying to be stubborn or anything. Like, I want this to be over and done with as much as you do.”

“I sure hope so,” Jeremy mumbles. “Look, for real, if there's anything I can do to make this better... I mean, if you want to try things out, I'm down. Does that make any sense?”

“Only because I've known you for twelve years,” Michael says with a good-natured roll of his eyes. “Fine, I'll try. I'll think of stuff, see if anything sticks.” 

Silence falls again, but Jeremy's less nervous this time around; finally, he's making progress. 

“I'll take your chocolate if you don't want it,” Michael says eventually, piercing the quiet with something that isn't somber for once. “I don't mind the cold.”

“Yeah, take it,” Jeremy says, and hands over the mug. He almost makes a ‘weirdo’ comment, like he would have done before- since, let's be real, liking cold hot cocoa  _ is  _ kinda weird- but he decides to can it instead. Insults probably aren't the best idea given the current state of their friendship, joking or not.

Michael accepts the mug gratefully and takes a sip from it; Jeremy averts his eyes in mild disgust. “Okay, so I have an idea.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Do you remember when… before I had my headphones, you used to kinda… hold me when I got overstimulated?” There's a hint of embarrassment in Michael's voice, and it pains Jeremy almost physically to hear; he never worried about these sorts of things before, as far as he knew.

Still, he does remember very well, so he answers, “Yeah. Do you… want me to do that again?”

“Yeah, that'd be nice. I mean, you haven't hugged me in  _ months,  _ man,” Michael points out.

“I didn't think you would want me to,” Jeremy says, “after what I did.”

“Of  _ course  _ I do, are you kidding me?” Michael says. “You're my best friend, man. I don't really have anyone else. You hurt me, but… I don't want it to change anything.”

“Right. Okay, then.” Jeremy is quiet for a few moments, glancing away, but he soon looks back at Michael and opens his arms. “C'mere.”

Michael doesn't hesitate- or, if he does, it's too quick for Jeremy to notice. He crosses the room quickly and lets himself be embraced. Jeremy holds him tight, tighter than he ever has before; he needs to feel something real. The past few months have felt like a dream- a nightmare, really- and Michael is somewhat of an anchor. It’s like a pendulum: he’s swung from not appreciating his best friend in the slightest to needing him wholeheartedly. The act is as much for him as it is for Michael.

Michael breaks away too soon for Jeremy’s liking- not that he would never say that. Jeremy looks up at him, making eye contact for once, and scans his face for any hint of his emotions. “Did that help?” he asks when he can’t decipher it.

“It didn’t  _ not  _ help,” Michael answers, and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips that slowly drains the tension from Jeremy’s shoulders. “I’m a sucker for hugs; you know that.”

“I’m very well aware,” Jeremy says, and smiles. After a moment, he decides to test his boundaries, craving even more. “Do you wanna go lay down?” he asks. “It’s getting pretty late.” He gestures towards the microwave clock, which reads  _ 2:19 AM.  _

“Yeah, sure,” Michael says, and downs the rest of his hot chocolate. “My sleeping bag is by the front door, let me just grab it…”

Jeremy reaches out and grabs Michael’s arm before he can go anywhere. “No, it’s alright,” he says. “You can sleep in bed with me… if you want, I mean, because we used to-” He finds that the words are spilling out beyond his control, and he desperately wants to shut the fuck up, but that’s never been his strong suit.

“Hey, hey,” Michael says, placing a gentle hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, “it’s okay. Whatever you wanna do is fine by me.”

Jeremy breathes a quiet sigh of relief and smiles gratefully. “Okay, thanks. Um… come on, then, I guess.” 

“I would love to, but you’ve still got me in a vice grip, there, Jer.”

“Right, sorry,” Jeremy says, and releases Michael’s arm. He hates to lose the touch, the end of an intricate ritual, but he obviously can’t keep Michael there forever.

Jeremy’s bed, located in his basement bedroom, is queen-sized. It’s the only thing big about the room; the rest of it is cramped, barely leaving room for a dresser, a nightstand, and a computer desk. All of this is to say that it’s good for sharing, and Jeremy and Michael had done it plenty of times before. They were both pretty no-homo about it at first, but eventually, waking up tangled together became less and less of a big deal, so much so that it didn’t always happen in their sleep. That’s exactly what Jeremy is hoping for- if there’s anything that he could do to cheer Michael up, it was probably something involving physical touch. He’s heard about love languages- there’s five of them, he knows, five different ways of showing and receiving love, and one of them is physical touch. Would this get through to him?

“Were you gonna… get changed?” Michael asks, nudging him.

Jeremy realizes with a start that they’re already seated on his bed; he must have gotten lost in his mind somewhere. “Yeah, I probably should,” he mumbles. “If you wanna leave…”

Michael shrugs. “I’m fine. I’ve seen you shirtless before.”

Jeremy can’t hold back a friendly snicker. “Yeah, and you  _ liked  _ it.”

He’s almost afraid that Michael will take offense to it, but he doesn’t; instead, he just laughs along. “Look… I’m gay, but I’m not  _ that  _ gay.”

“Yeah, right.”

When Jeremy is done changing, he shuffles under the covers and lifts them up so Michael can do the same. It feels good to be back here, just like nothing had ever happened. He hopes he can pretend that’s the case, anyway. When Michael scoots over to him, pressing their shoulders together, he realizes that it might just be possible. 

Jeremy closes his eyes and sighs out, still slightly tense. It feels great to be like this again with Michael, but there’s still the threat of everything falling out from beneath the two of them. One step at a time, he has to rebuild the foundation, but he wants it to be over and done with, dammit. With another sigh, he curls into a fetal position, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. It’s not a big deal. It  _ shouldn’t  _ be a big deal, anyway.

And it isn’t. A few moments later, Jeremy feels Michael’s fingers in his hair, brushing through the slight curls. Half of him can’t believe it, and he revels in the touch, the tenderness; he almost misses what Michael says next: “I did. ...Like it.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asks, not opening his eyes.

“I  _ mean  _ that I just told you a pretty big lie, Jeremy,” Michael answers. “I  _ am  _ that gay.”

Jeremy reaches out and pulls the chain on the lamp on his nightstand, illuminating himself and Michael. “Dude, that’s a hell of a bomb to drop at 2:30 in the morning,” he says.

“I just… needed you to know,” Michael says. “To give all of this context. Full disclosure and everything. You don’t keep any secrets about the SQUIP, I don’t keep any secrets about how I feel about you.”

“You’ve got balls of steel, Mell,” Jeremy says, unable to make eye contact. “I don’t- I don’t really know what to say, honestly.” His stomach, of course, has tied itself in knots, because here’s Jeremy fucking Heere, for God’s sake, and who could expect anything more of him? It’s not like he  _ doesn’t  _ like Michael back. Hell, they were just cuddling, sort of. But then there’s Christine, who he  _ also  _ likes, and who maybe likes him back- although, who knows? She could always be lying to spare his feelings, or whatever…

“Just tell me what you’re thinking,” Michael says. There’s a gentle look in his eyes that Jeremy finds himself wilting under; he’s absolutely certain he’s going to fuck this up.

“Well,” he replies, “I mean… I’m just worried that I’ll hurt you. Everything is so complicated, dude, like, I do…  _ like  _ you, in some sort of way, y’know, I don’t think I could ever  _ not,  _ but also, Christine is a thing, and, like… I think we should take some time, y’know, to rebuild before we do anything… gay.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” Michael says with a nod. “I just needed to tell you, so you could know why I’m all… like this. Like, it would have sucked even if they  _ had  _ just been platonic feelings, but they weren’t.”

“Yeah, I, um… really screwed the pooch on that one, didn’t I?” Jeremy asks. 

“Just a little.”

Jeremy blinks, then finally looks over to meet Michael’s gaze. “Can I hug you? I think I want to hug you.”

“Yeah, absolutely. ...You don’t feel weird about it?” Michael asks.

“Of course I don’t, man,” Jeremy answers. “If I had a problem with us being touchy-feely and stuff, I would’ve quit- I mean, things would’ve been rocky a long time ago.”

“Alright. I’m coming in, then,” Michael says, and Jeremy barely has time to open his arms before Michael is falling into them, pressing his back against Jeremy’s chest. “We can talk about this more in the morning. Is that alright?”

“Absolutely,” Jeremy says, voice muffled and nearly lost in the crook of Michael’s neck. He knows, then, that he would do anything to make this right, to comfort his friend: it’s a promise he’s made to himself, and it’s one he intends on keeping.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you!


End file.
